


Forever

by JuliaBrownen



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, One Shot, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:14:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23882140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuliaBrownen/pseuds/JuliaBrownen
Summary: Andreth considers immortality and action.  *One Shot*
Relationships: Aegnor | Ambaráto/Andreth | Saelind
Comments: 1
Kudos: 24





	Forever

"Do not be afraid of death, be afraid of an unlived life." _-Tuck Everlasting,_ Natalie Babbitt

* * *

Andreth closed the book she read. The wooden log in the fireplace of the Elven King’s library had dwindled to burnt kindling.

King Finrod had given her free reign of his private library. Who was she to refuse such an offer. Now, as she sat among the endless volumes on the library's shelves, she felt unnerved. It would be _humanly_ impossible to read all these books in her lifetime. No doubt, Finrod could read each book several times without realizing the years flying by around him. 

It was unimaginable: immortality. 

She could not fathom living forever; not growing old, not feeling the ache creep into your bones, or the lines deepen on your face. 

Age was a part of life, or at least that is what Adanel said.

The book in her lap no longer amused her. Her eyesight grew weary and her bones were stiff from her curled-up position in the chair. She needed to move; stretch her legs.

Returning the book to its proper place, she left the library.

The corridors of the citadel were silent. Only elves stirred at this hour, but none lingered in these halls. These were the private halls of Finrod Fegalund; the rooms where he and his princely brothers lived removed from the rest of the elven court. Her own kin slept tucked away in their bedrooms many floors above this one. Andreth had tried to sleep. Her guest bed was filled with the softest down feathers and covered in silken sheets smoother than any she had ever slept on before, but sleep evaded her. She had laid awake staring up at the carved ceiling. Her mind moving a mile a minute. 

Andreth was not one to jump to action. She preferred to observe. Adanel had raised her to watch others and learn from their achievements and their failings. They were women of wisdom, not action. They were storytellers not the heroines of the story. 

But, tonight, Andreth felt emboldened. Why should she sit idle while life happened around her? She knew she did not have the elven luxury of time. 

Her wandering led her to a familiar door.

Without hesitance, she knocked and waited for an answer.

“Come in,” a voice called from the other side.

Andreth glanced over both shoulders; the hallways were empty. She opened the door and slipped inside.

“Andreth,” Aegnor said in genuine surprise. “What are you doing here?”

She came forward to stand in the middle of his private chambers. He sat in a wingchair with his sword and a polishing cloth in his hands. His hair was down like a molten veil of gold around his face. He was alluring, her love. An otherwordly god among men.

“I could not sleep. I wanted to see you,” she answered. 

He put aside the sword and the cloth. His brow furrowed and he shook his head, “You shouldn’t be here at this hour. What if you are seen?”

The truth was, she didn’t care. For the first time, in a long time, Andreth would gladly be scrutinized for her impertinence, rather than applauded for her timidity.

She stepped between his sprawled knees and dipped down so she was eye level with Aegnor. His bright blue eyes were a catalyst. She leaned in and kissed him. 

The kiss was overwhelming to her senses. She had no experience with kissing outside the realm of a quick peck on the lips with one of her father’s guards. She had been seventeen then, just a woman grown, but that had been over a decade ago. 

This kiss with Aegnor was nothing like the other kiss. 

It was commanding, guiding, and giving. He took control; sensing her tentativeness. His hands came to clutch her face and neck, while she held on to the arms of his chair in fear she would topple over. 

When he pulled away, his eyes were darker; _feral._ He stared at her and she knew that she must be blushing. Her sister, Beril, had often teased her about it when they would watch her father's soldiers practicing in the training yard; waiting for one of the men to catch their gaze. Despite the richness of her brown skin, Andreth's face had a terrible habit of enflaming like a tomato whenever she blushed. 

“You know I do not expect this of you," Aegnor murmured against her cheek. "I will not push you to do something you may later regret.”

Andreth let a moment pass before she responded, “You push me to do nothing. I want this.” 

Carefully, she came to sit in his lap, her knees on either side of his thighs. Her robe slid open and her woolen nightgown rode up exposing her bare legs.

Aegnor’s hands gently pushed the robe off her shoulders.

A shiver went down her spine.

There was no fire burning here; just the wintry vastness of the elven rooms. Elves were not affected by heat or frost like mortal men. However, Andreth could feel the fire in Aegnor’s gaze as he took inventory of her body. Her throat, her shoulders, the modest v-neck of her nightgown, her exposed legs, he seemed to take a mental inventory as his hands brushed over her bare skin.

His movements were steady, knowledgeable.

This was not his first time. The fact sprung to the forefront of her mind. Some women might have found the idea unsettling. Andreth found it a comfort.

There had been another who had once shared Aegnor's heart. Andreth had heard the rumors. She had seen for herself the elf who had been Aegnor's past lover; witnessed her otherworldly grace and fair beauty. Andreth knew she could hardly contest with the charms of an elf, but she didn’t have to compete for Aegnor’s affection. He wanted her. He chose her. He had forsaken all others, including any elven bride, for her. 

So, Andreth reveled in his experienced hands as they slid down her back; knowing he would never touch another. His hands caressed her breasts and cupped her rear. She arched into his touch. His tongue nipped and bit at the column of her throat. A feeling of urgency was growing in her that needed to be satiated. He was hard beneath her and when she bucked under his grasp, he groaned, and his fingers became a vice.

All at once, Aegnor came to his feet and scooped her into his arms.

In three strides, he brought them to his large bed and she was deposited gently on the pristine sheets.

He began to disrobe in front of her. She brazenly watched as he brought his long tunic over his head exposing a well-honed body slender and graceful. It was unlike the other men she had seen without their shirts. The men of House Bëor were swarthy and thickly built; bulging muscles and hairy chests. There was no hair on Aegnor’s chest, save for a tawny patch that sprung from the low hanging breeches he wore. His skin was pale like churned buttermilk. His hair like a golden crown. 

An elven prince who was all hers. 

She felt her body burn as he pulled his pants down, his hardened member springing forward. Modesty demanded her to avert her eyes. Andreth looked away focusing her gaze on the intricate pillars supporting the bed’s canopy.

The mattress dipped as Aegnor joined her. His hand cupped her cheek and turned her head so that she could look into his eyes, “Andreth, you can still leave. My feelings for you will remain unchanged whether or not this happens.”

She knew what he said was true. He loved her and what they were about to do would not change anything. 

Was it wrong of her to desire the experience of laying with a person whom she loved? 

She sat up. Her hand pressed flatly against his abdomen. He hissed at her touch. 

“Please…” she trailed off. For all her wisdom, Andreth did not know the words needed to express what she desired.

Thankfully, Aegnor seemed to read her mind. He bent over and kissed her. It was messier than before; teeth, lips, and tongue filled with a hungry desire. His fingers hooked themselves beneath the hem of her nightgown and pulled it up and over her head. The frigid air of his bedchamber caused goose pimples to rise over her skin. She was soon warmed by Aegnor’s naked body pressed against her own. Andreth felt his arousal pushing against her abdomen. 

A hand crept down over her navel, and her breath caught in her throat as he touched the most sensitive skin in between her legs. 

Andreth’s head grew fuzzy as his fingers gently pressed into her folds. She felt wet and sticky and primal. A moan escaped her lips as he continued. Sensations flowed over her like thick syrup. Heat welled in her core.

Then, his fingers were replaced by something thicker and solid. She managed to open her eyes to see Aegnor regarding her with an unintelligible emotion. This was her last chance to go back. After this, they both would pass into a realm of no return.

She nodded and an unintelligible emotion passed over his face.

When he pushed forward, she froze feeling a sharp pain deep within her. It was very uncomfortable; this feeling of fullness. She squeezed her eyes shut and her fingers unconsciously dug into his upper biceps. Aegnor remained still as he kissed her temples and whispered foreign words into her ear. The husky murmur of his voice took her mind somewhat off the discomfort. Then, at once, he was entirely inside of her.

He moved her knees so that they wrapped around his torso. The movement made her wince like she was being stretched too thin. She couldn’t help but cry out as he withdrew and thrust again.

His movements were tender and slow, but he made a strangle sound into her dark curls like all his strength was being used to restrain himself. 

Andreth found after a while the initial discomfort was replaced by a delightful sensation. It reignited her earlier pleasure and when Aegnor moved within her she began to softly moan. He was moving faster, his own groans mingling with hers like a wordless chant. She buried her flaming face into the crook of his neck, letting his golden hair fall over them like a curtain until he cried out and suddenly withdrew from her. 

She watched unabashedly as he spilled his seed onto her leg, his normally pale face tinged with the faintest of pink. There would be no children from this union. He had ensured that. She didn’t know whether to feel relieved or heartbroken at the notion. 

Aegnor grabbed his tunic, tenderly wiped away the stickiness from her thigh, and then discarded the material back on the floor. He came back and languished beside her; pulling her to his dampened chest. She was sweaty too, and she knew her curls must be unattractively mused, but she didn’t care. 

Instead, she kissed his lips. There was no shyness in her actions. She was no longer the virginal maiden. Aegnor had just been with her in a way no other man would ever be. She reveled in the idea and relished the intimacy.

Soon, a weariness began to seep into her body. Andreth was finally tired.

Her core ached from her first time being with a man and she wondered if she would ever have the chance to experience it again. She would soon leave for Ladros, and Aegnor would go back to his duties in Dorthonion. Circumstance kept them apart for a reason. 

At least, she would have this memory.

Andreth leaned back and rested her head on Aegnor’s outstretched arm. A blanket appeared and she was snuggly wrapped in its warm comfort. She gazed up at Aegnor’s sculpted face as her eyelids grew heavy until they finally closed.

Someone was singing; a rich and husky voice. It must be Aegnor, her mind reasoned. If only she could stay awake for a moment longer. 

As she drifted to sleep, Andreth realized that she could live forever, if forever meant here in Aegnor’s arms.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this was fun to write. Taking a brief pause from 'The Wanderer and the Warden' to write up some future chapters/figure out minor subplots, etc. 
> 
> As I have said before, I'm a huge Andreth/Aegnor fan. So tragic, those two. Also, nod to my other favorite writer Natalie Babbitt!


End file.
